


Alone In the Desert

by Debi_C



Series: A Window In Time [4]
Category: Stargate SG-1, The Mummy (1999)
Genre: Gen, kidfic pre-series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-13
Updated: 2012-05-13
Packaged: 2017-11-05 07:56:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/404098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Debi_C/pseuds/Debi_C
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Jacksons come perilously close to losing Daniel forever.<br/>Child whumping, some Britishisms (I hope), an evil arachnid and some schmooshiness.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Alone In the Desert

Daniel Jackson was deep in concentration on his work. He carefully moved the sand away from the delicate figurine that he had uncovered earlier that afternoon. Using a fine brush, he gently whisked the dust of centuries from the finely carved facial features. It was a statue of Bastet, the cat-headed goddess. He knew that she was the deity responsible for joy, music, dancing, health and healing. It was a good find. He would make sure that he logged it in his journal with a complete description of the artifact and detailed directions of where it had been located, what time of day and the direction that it faced. He then pulled his gloves on so not to get the oil from his hands on the ancient clay and paint and then carefully picked it up to examine it more closely. He reached up with his left hand and pushed his glasses back into their proper resting place on his nose so that he could see any inscriptions that might be carved on its base.

"Daniel? Are you in here?"

He glanced over his shoulder to frown at the tall slender figure that stood at the entrance and blocked his light.

"Daniel, it's almost dinner time. Are you finished yet?"

"Can I have another hour? I'm almost through here."

"You've been working here all afternoon. Aren't you tired yet?"

"Not quite yet, Poppa, please. I need to finish and then write in my journal."

"So you did find something." The elder Jackson said in a satisfied tone. "I thought so when you took so long in here."

"See, Poppa. It's a little statue of Bastet, and it's in pristine condition."

Mel smiled at his six-year-old son who was using such large, educated words to describe his archaeological find. "So it is, son. So it is." The man crouched down to admire Daniel's find. "She's quite lovely. Where did you find her?"

"Here in this corner. Look, and there's a small altar here, where people put their offerings for her."

"Yes," Melbourne happily nodded at his son's explanation. "What direction was she facing?"

"She was facing east to greet Ra." The boy pointed to the carvings on the wall above the altar. "See here's his sun boat of a million years that he used to cross the sky."

"Very good! Can you tell me about her priests?"

"Poppa, she didn't have priests." The child looked up at his father primly. "She had priestesses, and they always wore red."

"Daniel, you are a very good archaeologist. You make me very proud." The boy's answering grin was as bright as Ra's sun and Professor Jackson reached to tousle his son's white blond hair with his hand. "But come on now, even very good archaeologists have to eat their supper so that they can grow up to be big and strong."

"But, Poppa, I'm not through yet . . . can't I stay just a little longer. I want to translate the wall."

"Danny, the wall has been here for three thousand years. It will wait one more night for you. Now come on into camp and eat. Bring the little goddess with you." Mel stood up and helped his son gather his excavation tools. "Daniel, you forgot to drink your water again. Your Mummy will be unhappy with us."

The small boy stood up and straightened his clothes, dusting off his legs from where he'd been sitting in the sand. "I'm sorry," he murmured placatingly. "I got so excited I forgot."

His father picked up his son's hat and plopped it on the fair head. He chuckled. "I know," he bent down and said confidentially. "I do too."

 

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The Magus stood upon the high dune and watched the man and his child as they exited the small temple and walked toward the tents. He did not relish this spying on the small encampment. It was not honorable. But the group was getting too close and it was worrisome to his sect.

Satisfied that they were through for the evening, he mounted his horse and rode back to his own camp in the caves deep in the limestone mountains hidden amongst the sand dunes of the desert. He wore the robes of the beduin, but unlike theirs, his were as dark as the mare that he rode. Even the head rope was the black of night and on his face were the stylized tattoos, the mystic symbols of his sect, the Magi. His kind were the keepers of the secrets of the Ancient Ones. They protected these mysteries from the encroachment of the modern world, just as they protected the world from the dangers of the dark. The Professor Jackson was too good at his job. He might yet find the ruins of the hidden city of Hamunnaptra.

Once before Ardeth Bey and his people had fought against the evil that lay beneath the sand. In his youth he had helped defeat and banish the monster that was Imhotep. But it had cost many lives, both of the innocent and of the guilty. He did not want a repetition of the struggle. He was too old to fight that hard again.

 

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Mel and Daniel entered their tent to find Claire busily transcribing her notes. She looked up and smiled at her two men. Mel held the door flap with his hand as Daniel's came in carrying a small object. The boy was holding something close to his chest with two sandy gloved hands. His bright blue eyes were smiling up at her. As he approached her, she lay her pen down and reached for her boy to cuddle and kiss him. "It's about time you two came in from the dig site. Missy has been keeping dinner for you, but it's probably gone cold by now." She scolded them gently.

"Daniel made quite a discovery today, Claire." Her husband replied with a proud smile. "While I was working at trying to locate the entrance to the city, he's found a temple to Bastet and was busy all afternoon excavating the altar area." He looked down at his son, laying a gentle hand on the small sturdy shoulder. "Show your Mummy what you found."

"Well, well, what do we have Danny?" She leaned over to see his find.

The boy looked up at him with a proud grin, then he extended his arms out with his precious burden. His mother took it carefully from him and held it up into the lamp light. "Look, Mummy, there was a little temple in the corner of the mastaba. I started to ex-ca-bate and I found this."

"Oh, darling, this is wonderful!" She exclaimed. "She's beautiful."

"Yes, she is rather, isn't she?" Mel agreed. "He unearthed her himself, did all the cleaning and had just begun to examine his find when I located him." He knelt next to the boy and pulled him close for a kiss. "He was working so hard, and I had to convince him to come in for dinner."

"And there's hie-ro-glyph on the temple wall." Daniel told her proudly. "I was going to translate them and put them in my journal but Poppa said we had to come back to camp."

"Well, it's a good thing he did." Claire looked over his head at his father. "I was getting worried. I thought something might have happened to you two."

"Nothing but a little excitement and some absentmindedness, dear. A good supper will put us right as rain." Mel assured his wife as he reached over to kiss her. "Daniel did all the successful work today. I'm afraid I've been a bloody failure."

"Single minded, just like his father." Claire smiled over her son's head at her husband. Then she looked down at the boy. "Can you read the inscription?"

"Most of it, Mummy, but there are some symbols I don't know." He pointed to the base of the statuette. "Do you know them?"

"Hum, let's look again shall we?" She tilted the artifact into the light. "I don't recognize any of these." Claire frowned as she handed it off to her husband. "Can you translate them, Mel?"

He studied the markings for several minutes unconsciously chewing on his bottom lip. "No, can't say that I can. Let me think a moment." He pursed his lips and scrunched his brow. "They do look very familiar to me, but I can't place . . . unless. . . ."

"Unless what, Poppa?"

Mel handed the statue back to his wife and went to his desk and pulled down one of his oldest journals. "I think I've seen something like this before . . . just a moment. Ah, here it is."

"What is it Mel?"

"Hum. I remember something from my student days. There was an expedition in this area before by Steward. He'd uncovered some marvelous finds, and some of them had some unusual markings on them. Not hieroglyphs or hieratic, but some other pictographs. No one could understand them."

"I don't remember that. When did this happen?" Claire crossed the room to look over his shoulder at the old yellowed pages of the book.

"Oh, this was before you were born, in the nineteen thirties I think. My own father had rather an interest in Archaeology you know. He served in the middle east in World War Two and saw some of the work that was going on then. He was always getting the latest copies of papers and documents that were coming out of Egypt . . . drove my poor mum mad with the clutter in his office."

"Is that why you became an Archyologist, Poppa?" The little boy watched eagerly as his father's strong hands turned the pages of the leather bound book.

Jackson smiled down at his son, "Yes, Daniel, it is. You see he'd sit me down and show me pictures of all the beautiful things and places in Egypt. It made me want to see them for myself." He continued to flip through the pages of the book, then he stopped. "Here, here it is." He pulled a chair over next to the table that served as his desk. "This was supposed to be the find of the century, the greatest collection since Tutankamon's tomb was opened in Nineteen Twenty Two."

"The Steward Expedition?" Claire mused. "I can't say I've ever heard of it."

Mel sighed. "I'm not surprised. The whole lot was put on a ship to be taken to a proper place to be studied when the bloody boat sank. Everything was lost. It was a disaster." He shook his head. "Of course there was more talk of curses and other nonsense. Steward was ruined. Then of course World War Two began and it was forgotten about by everyone except a few Egyptologists."

"How did you know about it?"

"Oh, my father fancied Steward's work and kept all the clippings he could find. Then, at University I met an American who also knew of it, David Jordan. I took him home for Christmas and he and my father were immediately entrenched in Steward's work." He chuckled at the remembrance of good times past. "I don't believe they even tasted the goose they were so busy talking. My Mum was livid."

Mel and Claire shared a warm look over their child's head. The boy frowned up at them. "Poppa, what's a goose?"

 

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Daniel was not lost. He knew exactly where he was. He knew that this path was the one their Land Rover had followed yesterday. He also knew that he was hot, thirsty and tired. What had seemed a good idea in the cool morning was beginning to be a bad one in the hot desert afternoon.

His father had told him yesterday that they would return to the temple that he had found, but this morning he had said that he must return to their original dig site. The men had unearthed something and they needed him to determine if it was important enough to continue. Daniel also remembered that his father had been disappointed at the temple site. He had not found anything. Only Daniel had. So it wasn't important enough to go back out there right away.

So Daniel had started out to the temple site himself. It had only taken a little while to get there in the Land Rover so it couldn't be very far. It would have been better if he'd had a camel to ride or even a horse. But he didn't have either one, so he had to walk

He'd gone to the cook tent early that morning right after his father had left and asked Missy for some water to take with him. She thought that he was going with his father and the workers but he didn't tell her any differently. He knew that she would tell his mother and they would watch him so that he couldn't go. And he needed to go, so that they would be proud of him and they would be happy.

But, now he had already drunk most of the water that Missy had given him and he still hadn't reached his destination. It hadn't seemed so far yesterday, and it surely hadn't seemed so hot and dusty. He needed to rest for just a little while, and then he could go on to the site of his temple dig. It couldn't be too long now. Daniel saw some rocky outcroppings jutting out of the sand just a little way down the trail he was following. He decided that it would be a good place to stop. There would be shade and he could rest for a while.

Finally, he got to the area and he found a nice little nook where he could sit down and be completely out of the sun. He would sit there for a while and drink what was left of his water. Then he could go on to his temple and begin to work on translating the writing on the wall.

But, in the shady area there was also another traveler who had sought protection in the rocks from the broiling desert sun. An Arabian Fat- tailed Scorpion had claimed the cool spot for his own. When he felt the vibrations and heard the crunching of the sand, the creature arched up to protect itself from the encroaching newcomer. He would not give up his rocks without a fight, no matter how big the trespasser was. He watched as the human child made his way into the shadows. The creature arched his tail and prepared to do battle.

Daniel took his hat off and sat down on the soft sand to lean back against the cool rock. Then, suddenly, from behind the rock he saw a huge black shape scuttle out from a deep crevice in the stone wall at him. He tried to move but was not fast enough. A hard blow struck him on his leg, penetrating his light trousers. Then the blinding pain came rolling over him. Daniel cried out in alarm and tried to escape, but before he could get away, it struck him again. His leg seemed to be on fire and he rolled away from his attacker.

The scorpion arched his tail with its envenomed stinger now depleted. He stood poised once again to defend his territory but the invader was no longer moving. Satisfied that he had successfully defended his territory, the creature crawled back into the rock crevasse from whence he had come.

 

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The lone man on the black horse searched the desert unseen from the top of the sand dune. He had learned that morning that the boy had left the camp. He was alone and unguarded and it worried him. The child was much too young to be out in the desert without protection. What were these English thinking, to let him wander unescorted and unguarded through the inhospitable lands that surrounded their encampment?

He had heard of the boy from various sources. The natives of the village, diggers from the excavation, servants of the family, even his old friend Sherif Kasuf of the Harif tribe spoke of the beautiful boy child. It was not the Magi's purpose to act as guardians for every foreigner to wander in the desert. Theirs was a much loftier goal, yet this small one called to him as the wind called to his hunting hawk. He should go and send a message to the foreman of the dig so that his presence would not be compromised. But he could not make himself leave the child. He must go down to him and assure himself of his safety.

But even as he sought the child, the cold hand of dismay clutched at his heart. There were many dangers in the desert. There were snakes and scarabs, heat sickness and thirst, any one of which could fell a delicate youngster. He could be injured, he could be prey to the scavengers that hunted the dunes or an even worse fate could befall him.

Then he saw a small form in the lee side of a limestone outcropping. Something had happened, just as he feared it would. He kneed his mount forward and the mare slithered herself and her rider down the loosely packed sand of the dune field. When they reached the bottom they galloped in the direction he had seen the body.

Ardeth Bey reached the boy and hurriedly dismounted. He approached the child carefully. The small body was huddled in the meager shelter of the rock face. He was curled up in a foetal position, his hat was missing and his unprotected face burnt red by the sun. The boy was clutching his leg against his abdomen. It was swollen to twice it's normal size.

The Arab crouched beside the boy and examined him. Exposure and dehydration were obvious but when he touched the hot swollen leg a moan burst from the small one. There two angry red marks just below the knee. As he rolled the boy over, he could see the cause of the injury. A huge dark brown scorpion was sheltering from the sun near the rock face. From his pinchers to the tip of his tail he measured at least thirty centimeters.

Bey sat back on his heels and regarded the creature. "I see you, Scorpion King. You have tried to take someone who is not for you. You must leave now or I will end your life to protect him."

The creature seemed to regard the Arab with its beady multi-focused eyes. It twitched its stinger at him and moved toward the suffering child again.

The man pulled his sharp pointed dagger. "I warn you, old friend. We have lived side by side for many years, and I have seen you take your prey, but you may not have this one. He is too important for your children to feed upon. If he has dishonored you it is because he does not know you. So go now, Father of wickedness. Go and live, or stay and die."

The huge arachnid arched up onto its back four legs as a final threat. When the man did not flee, the creature turned and scuttled back under the rocks from which it had came.

Bey looked down at the small boy and straightened the curled limbs so that he was lying on his back. Using the point of his sharp knife, he carefully pricked the injury and squeezed the spot. Clear fluid oozed from the wound. The man carefully placed his lips to the spot and sucked, drawing the poison and some blood from the injury. He spat the fluid out of his mouth and repeated the action until he was confident that he had removed most of the damaging venom.

Then he gently picked up the child and carried him to his mount. The horse shied from her master''s unusual burden, dancing away from him. He spoke soothingly to her and she finally stood as he lifted up his small burden in front of the saddle. Turning the horse's head toward his own camp, he touched the mare''s flank with his heels and they galloped away.

They arrived at his lonely camp just at nightfall. Ardeth dismounted, still carrying the small still form. He knew that the English camp was too far out in the desert for their western medicine doctors to come in time. To save the child he would have to depend upon the old ways of healing.

 

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Claire came out of their tent and held her hand up to her face, shading her eyes. She looked around for her two men. It was lunch time and they were late again. She had been working on the books all morning and was well ready for a break herself.

The woman saw her husband come trudging up the path to their tent. Mel looked exhausted: hot, sweaty and covered with sand.

She hurried to his side. "What happened?"

He shook his head at her. "The north wall collapsed at the primary dig today. Two weeks work wasted."

"Oh dear. Anyone hurt?" She took his hand in hers and kissed him on his grimy cheek.

"No, luckily we were all clear of the wall when it came down." He said tiredly. "Lucky Daniel wasn't there."

She looked at him in confusion. "Wasn't there? Where was he?"

He looked at her with concern. "I didn't take him today. His temple is farther out to the north toward the rock outcropping. I told him to stay in the camp and we'd go out there later today."

"But, he's not here." Claire said beginning to get worried. "I thought he was with you. I haven't seen him all morning."

Mel looked around the almost empty tent community. "I explained to him that I had to go to the main dig. Maybe he's with Hassem."

Claire turned and hurried over to the cook tent. "Missy? Missy, do you know where Daniel is?"

The young maid looked up from her chores at Claire. "No, Mistress. I thought he was with the Professor. Is this not so?"

Mel had followed his wife and looked around worriedly. "Do you know where Hassem is at?"

"Yes Professor. He went to the village with Abdul to seek more men. I have not seen them since early today. Is not Dan-yel with you?"

"No, I told him to stay with you . . . didn't he come to you this morning?"

"Yes, Professor Jackson. He came and said that he would go to the dig . . . " "Good God! He's done it again!" Jackson spoke in a loud frustrated voice. "I TOLD him we would go later. He said he knew the way, but . . . I didn't think that he'd go on his own."

Claire looked at him with stricken eyes. "Mel, the secondary dig . . . . "

"Is where his little temple is located. Yes, dear I know . . . I just didn't expect . . . ."

"But that's miles from here." Claire said softly. "How would he get there?"

"Unless someone took him, he'd have to walk." The professor said angrily. "I cannot believe the boy! What possesses him to do these things?"

Missy was looking very frightened. "He asked me for a water skin. I gave him a full one, but I thought . . . Mistress, I am sorry."

Claire looked at the girl. "It's not your fault, Missy. It's Daniel. He's . . . "

"Incorrigible. The boy is too damned independent for his own good!" Mel grabbed a full water bottle from a pile on a plank table and spun on his heel. "I've got to go find him. I'll take the remaining men with me."

"Mel! Be careful!"

"I'll find him, darling. Don't worry. But I swear this is the last time . . . I've had enough!" Jackson turned on his heel and headed out to the center of the camp calling the tired men back together again.

"The Professor is very angry with Dan-yel?" Missy asked her mistress softly.

"Yes, dear. I'm afraid that he is." She sighed and watched her husband call out to the few men in the campsite and get into their old Land Rover.

 

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The Magi gently carried the boy into the cave that served as his campsite. There he bathed the injured leg with water then laid a cool cloth on the young one's fevered brow. The boy moaned in his unconsciousness.

After ensuring the boy was resting, Bey went to his pack to retrieve the required herbs for the poultice. Watching the injured boy, he carefully mixed honey and several other herbs and unguents. Using clean linen, he applied the medicine to the wound on the child's leg. He then ground seeds of the poppy to help with his pain later when he awoke. Satisfied that he had done all he could, Bey settled back to watch through the night. It would be a long one.

 

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It was a long night. Melbourne Jackson, Hassem, and the rest of the men had been searching the desert foot by foot as only an experienced archaeological crew could. It felt like he had been sifting every square foot of the desert...but he wouldn't, couldn't quit. His son was too important. He knew it, had known it even before he had been told by a wise man. 

"I have spoken with your son. You must know that this one is irreplaceable, not only to you and your tribe, but to human kind. I believe that he will be a great prophet. You must guard him well."

And he had failed. He had failed his promise, his wife and his son. The boy was lost again. Only this time, it was not in a city surrounded by people to whom he could turn to for help. This time it was in the vast wasteland of the desert. A desert filled with predators and the relentless searing sun and heat. How could his son, a small delicate child, possibly survive against such odds? How could he go back to his wife and tell her that their precious child was lost? How could he admit it to himself?

"Professor Jackson." It was Hassem speaking to him. "Professor, the sun is leaving us and there is no moon. What is your will?"

He looked up into the dark visage of his friend. "I...I'm not sure." He dropped his head into his hands. "You know this part of the desert better than I, what do you suggest?"

The Egyptian foreman looked down at the distraught man and thought a moment. "We can stay here this night. We all have water enough, and food is unnecessary for one night." He turned to look at the other men. "We will stay and search for Dan-yel in the morning; but we must rest now."

Mel looked at him in gratitude. "Thank you, but don't the men want to return to the village? Go home to their wives?"

"No, Professor. Our women would not welcome us should we return without Dan-yel. We will remain and, Allah willing, we will find him in the morning." He smiled at the other man's surprised expression. "He is important to us all."

 

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Ardeth Bey was exhausted. He had spent the night caring for the child as the poison worked its way with him. It had been the worst reaction he had seen, he had truly feared for the child's life. The venom had caused the boy great pain and the small body had been racked with fever and convulsions for many long hours. The vomiting had stripped him of any fluids that his body had retained. Bey had even had to resort to the Poppy to sooth him and help his breathing. It had been too long since he had treated a sick child through the night and he was no longer young.

But finally the boy was resting quietly. The Scorpion King had been denied one more victim. The child would live now, and Allah willing, he would return him safe and sound to his foolish parents. The old man drank some water himself and saw to the fire before he too could lay down and sleep.

Several hours later, Ardeth awoke to find a pair of impossibly blue eyes looking at him. He quickly sat up and touched the child on the still warm cheek. "Are you felling better, my child?"

The childish voice was so soft he had to strain to hear it. "Yes, thank you, sir."

"Does your leg still hurt?" The arab asked him kindly.

The boy nodded slightly. "A little."

"Do you know where you are?"

The youngster looked at him for a moment then turn his head to survey his surroundings. "No, sir. I'm in a cave but I don't know why."

"You were stung by a scorpion. You have been very ill." Bey nodded to the boy's look. "I will give you a potion to help you sleep and grow strong. Yes?"

The boy nodded. As Bey prepared the poppy by grinding the dried seeds in a small mortar with a pestle. He mixed some leaves in the powder and then blended it with some hot coffee sweetened with honey. The then carefully gave a bit to the child. "You should sleep now, young one. I will change the cloth on your leg. It may pain you a little."

Daniel watched the man as he removed the soiled bandage from his injury. The poppy was making him sleepy but he was frightened by the ordeal and his leg hurt terribly.

Bey gently bathed the sting site with warmed water and applied a thick salve mixture of the spongy flesh of the aloe vera plant. Then he gently rewrapped the leg in clean bandages. He looked at the boy. "Does it feel better?"

"I'm fine, sir." The small voice replied softly.

The Arab smiled gently at his patient. "I am sure that you will be now. But you have been very ill. So you must humor me and sleep again, all right?"

"Yes, sir." The blue eyes regarded him curiously. One small hand reached up to his own cheek, indicating the facial tattoos on the corresponding area on the man. "What are those marks on your cheek?"

Bey smiled at the curious child. "The are the marks of my sect. I am of the Magi. We guard the world of men and protect it from ancient evils."

The boy nodded sleepily. "I would like to do that too."

Ardeth Bey smiled down at the small boy. "One day, little one, I believe that you will. But you must rest now and grow strong so that you may live to do these things."

Daniel nodded and drifted off to the land of dreams.

 

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Late that afternoon, the mare raised her head and listened to something outside. She snorted gently to alert her master. The Magus rose and pulled his revolver from his robes and went to investigate.

He heard the vehicle before he saw the shape of the old Land Rover as it approached his lair. First a large cloud of dust appeared then the car came into sight. It pulled to a stop in front of him. In it were several men, three Arabs and an Englishman. He recognized the English as the careless father of the child he tended.

The men climbed out of the vehicle and two of them hurriedly climbed the small slope to the cave's mouth. Once there, the Arab worker bowed and spoke in his own language. "Honored one, we come seeking a man child who has become lost in the desert. Have you perhaps seen him?"

"Describe the boy to me." Bey looked closely at the father who stood next to his worker.

"It is the Professor's only son." Hassem began. "He is small and slender with a fair face and form. His hair is as pale as the desert sand, his eyes blue as the lapis lazuli and his skin is the golden tan of the sun. He has wandered from the camp and we all fear the worst for him."

"As well you should." The old Arab nodded knowingly at the two. "There are many dangers in the desert. Such a one should be guarded closely by both the parents and the servants."

"It is so, honored one. But this boy is like no other. He is like the Nile river, impossible to contain or deny him his course."

"It so happens that I have knowledge of such a man child."

"Yes, great one? Have you seen him?"

"Indeed, I have." Ardeth frowned at the father as he stood listening. He could tell the man was listening and comprehending his language even as he spoke it. "I have seen him lying in the shadow of the sandstone rock some miles from here. I have seen the boy injured and perhaps dying . . . "

"In God's name, man! Where did you see him?" The father interrupted in Egyptian in a panicked, heavily accented voice. "You must tell us where he is!"

"Indeed, Professor. I shall. He lies behind me in the cool recesses of my campsite." The Englishman made as if to push past the old Arab. "Wait! We must speak first."

The man looked at him impatiently. "I want to see my son!"

Ardeth Bey answered him in English. "And so you shall, after we speak. Not before."

Mel looked at him in surprise. "Why not?"

"The boy is indeed in my camp, but he is very ill. He was bitten by the desert scorpion. If I had not found him, he would be dead by now. Do you understand this?"

Mel looked at the man impatiently. "Look here. I'm very grateful for your help, but I must see my son."

"Yes, but you look at him without seeing. Look at him with more than your eyes, Professor." Ardeth Bey stepped aside and allowed the Englishman to go past. "Look at him with your heart and learn wisdom."

Mel shook his head at the apparently mad old man and pushed past him. As he entered the dark cool cave, he saw Daniel lying asleep, curled in a rug beside a small fire of dried camels' dung. "Daniel?" He knelt and laid his hand on the boy's still warm forehead. "Oh, Danny, sweetheart."

The boy blinked sleepily and looked up at his father's concerned face. "Poppa?"

"How do you feel, my lad?" Jackson looked down at his son. The normally tan skin was faded to the color of papyrus with hectic red spots on his cheeks. He could also hear a slight wheeze in Daniel's breathing that worried him.

"I don't feel so good, Poppa but Mister Bey has been giving me medicine."

"That's good, Danny." He stroked the long bangs back off the damp forehead. "I see he's been taking good care of you." Mel glanced down at the leg that was heavily wrapped in a linen bandage. "What happened?"

"I was walking back to our dig so I could do some more ex-cave-ation in Bastet's temple and I got hot so I sat down in the shade and something bit me on the leg."

"Did you see what it was?"

"Not at first, but then I saw a big old scorpion in a crack in the rock. Then he bit me again." The serious blue eyes looked up at him and filled with tears. "It hurt real bad, Poppa."

"I can well imagine." Mel knew that a desert scorpion's sting could kill a grown man, much less a child. He looked over his shoulder at the Magus who had followed him into the cave camp. "I...I don't know how to thank you enough."

The man tilted his head downward in a small bowing action. "I am pleased that my skill was able to defeat the poison of the scorpion king." He nodded at Daniel and smiled. "He was very brave to let me help him though I know it pained him greatly."

Mel could only nod. No words could get past the lump in his throat. The man had undoubtedly saved Daniel's life and he had done nothing but suspect the worst of the old Arab. "I am indebted to you. How can I repay you?"

Ardeth Bey wanted to chastise the younger man for his carelessness with the child, but he knew from his watching them at the camp that this one would not be denied his freedom of discovery and that all information came with its own price. "Professor, all I ask as a reward is the safety of the child. Do not punish him for his transgressions, only guide him in his quest for knowledge. He is like a wild colt, infinitely curious about his world. To try to deny him this would only break his spirit and make him useless for battle. My price for your child is that you guard and guide him in his quest for adventure with your knowledge." He looked knowingly at the Professor. "It is said that though the colt is the son of his sire, he always carried his dam's stamp. I think that his mother is also intelligent, curious and headstrong."

Mel sighed and nodded as he stroked the boy's still fevered face. "Yes, he is very like his mother."

"Then how can you deny him his heritage and his destiny?" Bey chuckled. "Guard him well, Professor. Teach him the knowledge of your world, but let him also learn the wisdom of the old ways so that he will understand all the dangers which come upon him."

The Arab bent to retrieve a vessel that had been sitting by the fire then went to the boy's side. There he gave the bowl to Mel and indicated that he should give it to the boy. Jackson looked in it questioningly. "It is the elixir of the poppy. It will ease his suffering."

Mel nodded and supported Daniel so that he could drink the potion. The native medicine had undoubtedly saved his child's life, and he had nothing better to offer. The youngster made a face but swallowed the bitter tasting liquid.

The man spoke softly to the boy. "Dan-yel, I will redress your wound so that you may accompany your father to your home. It will cause you some little pain, but you must be brave and bear it."

The boy nodded at the elder, his eyes appearing huge in his pale face.

As the Magus unwrapped the injured limb, Mel could see the severity of the injury. It was swollen twice it's normal size and had two suppurating wounds that looked viciously painful on the boy's lower calf. Bey began applying a paste to the tender flesh.

"What is that?" Jackson asked nervously watching the sure hands tend his son.

"It is an unguent made from the flesh of the aloe plant, henna and frankincense." The man replied, "The drink is a tisane made of strong coffee, honey, basil and poppy. I will send some with you so that your physician may continue to use it." At Jackson's doubtful look, the man chuckled. "It is the old medicine but it has saved many a life in the desert. You must learn, Professor that what has always worked will continue to do so." Bey added. "I also prayed. This too did no harm."

Mel nodded. There was no denying the effects of the traditional medicines on his son's injuries not to mention any divine intervention.

Hassem who had been standing watching put his hands together and bowed his head in thanks to his God for the protection of the child. "Thanks be to Allah, the merciful."

Bey nodded at him and then looked again to the Englishman. "The sleeping draught will keep him comfortable until you arrive at your tent. Here are two more doses of the potion and several more of the unguent. Put the potion in hot tea or coffee. This should be enough. He will be in pain and sick for several more days until the poison leaves his system. Be sure that he continues to drink plenty of fluids and rests until he feels better. Then, he will resume his normal activities." The older man looked at Jackson, then Hassem. "Do not allow this to occur again. I only found him by the will of the Good Gods. Do not temp fate a second time. He is far too valuable to risk in such a manner. Do you understand my words?"

Hassem, still in the doorway, salaamed deeply to the old man. Jackson nodded his thanks, then gently slipped his arms under his sleeping son. He stood and lifted him carefully, so not to jostle the child. "I don't know how to repay you for your kindness, Sir. Please come and visit our camp. You will always be welcome."

"My payment will be the safety of the child, Professor. May the Good Gods watch over you and yours."

 

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The Land Rover came barreling into the camp, dust flying and horn honking. Missy ran to the tent and pulled the flap open. She called into the shelter, waking Claire from her restless nap. She had been awake all night and had finely dropped off from sheer exhaustion. "Mistress, Mistress, the men are coming back. They have found Dan-yel! Praise Allah! They have found him!"

The child's mother immediately got to her feet and ran to the opening. The two women watched as the old Land Rover rolled to a stop. She could see Hassem was driving and Mel was holding a small form securely in his arms. As he got out of the jeep, she ran to her husband's side.

"Oh, Mel, you found him. Is he all right?"

"He's alive, by God, but he's been badly injured." Jackson hurriedly carried his son into the cooler shaded area of their tent. Hassem followed

"What happened?" Missy asked the overseer.

"Dan-yel was stung by a Black Scorpion. A Magus found him and treated his wounds, Allah be praised."

"God is good. Allah be praised." The girl echoed his benediction revently.

Claire pulled the covers back"God, Mel, is that true?"

Her husband settled their son in his bed, then adjusted his pillow and tucked the well worn stuffed camel next to the boy. After kissing Daniel's forehead, he finally straightened up to turn to his wife. "Yes, dear. I'm afraid so. The blighter got him twice on the leg. Luckily an old Beduin found him and dosed him with some traditional medicines." He stepped back and let his wife sit down on the bed by their son. She ran her hand over his flushed face, brushing the sweat dampened hair from his face. "I think he'll be all right."

"Oh, Danny. Oh, my poor baby." She looked up at Mel. "Should we take him back into Cairo for a doctor?"

"If you want, we can." Mel looked searchingly from her to the sleeping boy. "I think the worst is over. He's just sleeping from a potion the man gave him."

"Do you know what it was?" Claire frowned worriedly.

"He said it was made from poppy seeds, basil and honey."

"Poppy? You mean opium?"

"Well, a close cousin anyway. But it's keeping him comfortable, and he hasn't had enough to hurt him." He turned to the tent opening where their maid and overseer were waiting. "Hassem, could you get me the medicines?"

The man brought him the two containers the Magi had given to them. "Here's a salve for the wounds also. It seems to be working nicely on the stings. I think moving him now would cause more harm then good."

"Well, we'll look at his leg tonight when I redress it," Claire said softly. "But you're probably right about moving him too soon."

"I think its about time for us to move on anyway. Other than Daniel's little temple to Bastet, we haven't found a bloody thing out here. That cave in may have just been a sign to go on to something else. And now, with Daniel hurt, well, I'm ready to chuck it all and go back in closer to civilization. I know I can find work at Abu Simbel for the rest of this year's season."

"Thank you, Mel." Claire stood up and put her arms around her husband.

He returned her hug and kissed her on the forehead. "No fame and fortune out here, darling. Just sand, sand and more bloody sand."

 

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Some days later, the Jackson party was packed up and ready to begin the long hot journey back into civilization. Young Daniel was recovering nicely, though still not well enough to be left alone. The Professor had ensured the dig site was properly closed and the Mistress had seen that the campsite was packed up efficiently and quickly.

The old Magus sat upon his black horse on the highest dune. He would miss the busyness of other people here in his lonely desert, but he knew that they, and their man-child Dan-yel, would be much safer in their new place closer to civilization. He had done his best for them and he was comforted in the knowledge that they were leaving happily if not successfully.

As the vehicles drove off toward Cairo, he quietly turned his mare back toward his own home and comfort. He carried with him the knowledge of a job well done. May the Good Gods watch over and protect them.

The end of the Scorpion's tale.


End file.
